Just as you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, you can't judge an RPG by its opening hours. Though Dragon Age II certainly tries its luck.

This is the sequel to BioWare's 2009 epic Dragon Age: Origins, a feisty, hardcore fantasy that curried favour with those that like their RPG's long, loaded and set in a meticulously detailed world. In Origins, you built your own character from scratch, choosing gender, race (human, dwarf or elf) and class (warrior, rogue or mage). As part of a streamlining for Dragon Age II that nobody really asked for, you are cast as Hawke - a human warrior from the kingdom of Ferelden. You can customise Hawke's gender, appearance and class but, much in the same way as Mass Effect's Commander Shepard, you are painting in the details of a character already framed.

Seeking refuge at the city of Kirkwall, Hawke and his/her family are fleeing Ferelden after their Kingdom has fallen to the Blight that afflicted the first game. The escape doesn't inspire confidence in Dragon Age II -- a fractured dash across "the Wounded Coast" with a group of thundering dullards, culminating in a rather messy combat finale that had Hawke laid out and Mage sister Bethany chased in circles by an ogre.

It's a clumsy opening that takes Dragon Age II several hours to get over, as the game charts Hawke's rise from straggly refugee to the Champion of Kirkwall. Stuttering rather than slow-burn, muddled expository events are crammed in to claw back some focus.

But once Dragon Age II finds its rhythm - finds that focus - it begins to take hold over you, willing you to dance to its tune. Much of its charm is entwined with the astonishing lore that BioWare have created with their own version of Middle-Earth, Thedas. The foundation may be cliched Tolkien lyricism, but the meticulously detailed theology and politik of Thedas builds a highly charged, tremulous fantasy scape that is as much under threat from its own people as it is the vicious Darkspawn that was vanquished in the first game. Bigotry, slavery and oppression form the themes of a world that is as morally grey as they come.

Ok, so the allegories aren't exactly subtle and, of course, all of these elements were an important part of the first game. But Dragon Age II wrenches all of it front and centre. By setting the entire game in and around the city of Kirkwall, BioWare creates a more intimate snapshot of Thedas. Kirkwall becomes your home, making your rise to Champion matter that much more as you become acquainted with the city and its people.

That's not to say you don't miss the journey, the sense of adventure that can only come when arriving at a new city or settlement. It is perhaps a mistake to limit pilgrimage to one expedition to the Deep Roads as the familiarity can become cloying. But Kirkwall is a place built for living in, a climbing mountainside sprawl that isn’t entirely unlike Tolkien’s Minas Tirith. It’s not wanting in scale or detail, with several very distinct districts that equate to the rungs of a ladder. The viscount and nobleman reside at the top of a clambering stone staircase in Hightown, while the city’s less well off live in the dusty grime of Lowtown. It’s thoughtfully planned out, but the bad news is that it’s presented in a way that can’t help but feel fractured. You simply can’t move seamlessly between areas, the game retreating to a world map when you reach the exit of a district, and an egregiously lengthy load time breaks up each location.

However, the pathways of each district in Kirkwall are fabulously busy, glistening with hidden loot and populated with citizens either in need of a hero or ready to offer you a job for a handful of coin. The people are the lifeblood of Dragon Age, pumping vitality through its meticulously planned veins. While the opening of the game is drenched in dreary stoicism, once you begin to settle and form your party, the game’s social side begins to shine. Pinching Mass Effect’s conversation wheel, the art of chatting is integral to the game’s story and soul. You rarely fall into the simple dichotomy of good and evil with Hawke, with the icon in the middle of the wheel representing tone rather than attitude, usually taking in peaceful, snarky or aggressive. Luckily, you are also warned if one of your responses will result in battle, with crossed swords meaning a swift call to arms.

It’s slick and laced with decent dialogue. One of the main criticisms of Origins was the clunky script and wooden delivery and Dragon Age II is a distinct improvement in this respect, with more cinematic flair and livelier exchanges. It’s not as rapier-sharp as, say, Mass Effect 2 and some of Hawke’s jokes stink the joint out, but nearly every dialogue exchange has a weight to it that seems to matter.

Of course, the most enlightening conversation comes from your party. Everyone will grow attached to their favourites, and the ragtag bunch cover a wide spectrum of beliefs, background and skills. The group often clash, and some of the most entertaining exchanges occur during downtime while your party are strolling the overworld. As for their relationship with you, your accompanying party members will register their pleasure or distaste with your actions. This tends to give you a better understanding of your companion’s attitudes and desires, but can quite often be bizarrely arbitrary. One conversation with broody elf Fenris about his past seemed to be revelatory for the both of us, and laid some demons to rest for the former slave. Yet I was greeted with a negative reaction in our friendship statistic. Odd. But quibbles aside, your interaction and relationships with your party members; friendship, rivalry and even love, mark them out as more than just tools to be used in battle.

The action itself is slicker and more refined than in Origins. You can switch between party members at the press of a button, or order them around by pausing the game and using the radial wheel to issue commands or spells. It’s more dynamic and immediate than Origins ever was, however, enhanced by a speedier pace and extra flourish in the animation. It’s brash, noisy and occasionally a little too cluttered, with swords clattering and enemies exploding in showers of gore. Each class feels markedly different and you’ll be cheerily switching to dish out hulking whacks with a warrior, or debilitate a cluster of enemy with a mage’s swirling fireball.

As for the missions themselves, most are simple journeys from A to B before getting into a big scrap and maybe a bit of a chat. Quite unforgivably, not only can the mission areas be rather bland when compared to the overworld of Kirkwall, many are identical in layout. Which is an oddly lazy element of a game lavished with such care elsewhere. As such, it's the framing of each quest is what keeps you involved. Very few assignments feel like filler, contributing to the experience in some way, be it lore or forming a small piece of the puzzle that makes up the main plotline. Dragon Age II does an excellent job at foreshadowing major story events with seemingly innocuous moments, with choices only making themselves apparent when the consequences reveal themselves. The story begins fractured, but is slowly teased out over dozens of hours, before finally coming into sharp focus with a thrilling finale.

That, in a nutshell, is the story of Dragon Age II as a video game too; a fragmented kaleidoscope of elements that finally form a rich, if imperfect, vision once everything is aligned. Some may find the apparent simplification disagreeable, but it's more a concentration of focus that allows BioWare to tell the more personal story of Hawke, and add polish to the world they have built around him. And noone builds a world like BioWare. For a good 40 hours, Kirkwall was my world, my city, my home. It just took a little while to settle in.